


The Alembic

by sassy_cat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, M/M, No Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9320834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cat/pseuds/sassy_cat
Summary: At the beginning of his sixth year, Draco is a young man fuelled by anger and resentment, but he soon learns more about life than he's ready to know. There are, in fact, circumstances and situations that even a Malfoy can't control. Severus teaches him to cope.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alley_Skywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/gifts).



> Written for the 2014 hds-beltane exchange on LJ.  
> A/N: Thank you to my betas drarryisgreen and goddess47. I hope that you enjoy this, alley_skywalker. It was a lot of fun getting to know Draco and exploring his relationship with Severus. Your prompt was for hiding out after HBP, but I couldn't resist also exploring why they might be together as well as the impending fallout they faced in DH. In turn, this became a little longer than anticipated.

_Golden streaks of light are just out of reach and he's sinking down, down, down. Arms and legs glide, finally working, finally overpowering the fear twisting in his chest. He almost reaches the light, but he can't break the surface and down, down, down he goes again. Lungs burning and too tired to fight, he gives up. Limp, he floats, slowly rising—almost managing to get a bit of air. A wave crashes, pulling him under and the golden light fades to darkness._

Draco sits up, gasping for air, hand to his throat.

The dream is coming more often. It always ends with drowning—sometimes in water, sometimes in blood. He can't decide if the blood is his or another's, but he knows he's running out of time.

Coming home for Easter Hols was a mistake but he couldn't shake the feeling that everything was going to change, that this might be their last, his last, chance.

Too late, he knows he should have come home last year. Father is—away. When Mother thinks he's asleep, she sobs behind their bedroom door, a door that she used to leave ajar for him. But he's not little anymore. He's a Marked wizard whose night terrors are no longer the stuff of his imagination.

Mother must know that he can't indulge in childish needs. It's probably her way of helping him be strong. He runs his fingers over his damp sheets, feeling the proof of his weakness. Deep in the night… when his guard is down, sweat pours out of him so he doesn't forget how he's well and truly fucked. He'll have a house-elf change the bedding first thing tomorrow so that Mother will never have to know.

**

Professor Snape corners him after class and hands him a piece of parchment. It's a summons to come to his office for a meeting, not that Draco's been receptive to any of his past offers.

Draco knows it's an excuse to interrogate him about his task, and this meeting has interrupted his chance to work on the cabinet. As he lies by the lake soaking in the first warm sunrays of spring, he tries to decide what he'll say.

Two o'clock comes too soon but Draco doesn't dare challenge his Head of House by arriving late. Palms damp and his throat a little dry, Draco knocks and immediately hears Professor Snape murmur, "Enter." He's the only person Draco knows who can shout without raising his voice.

Draco takes a seat in front of Professor Snape's desk, a desk that's orderly for once rather than littered with rolls of red-marked parchments. The curiously tidy area does nothing to soothe his nerves.

As he waits for Professor Snape to acknowledge him, he can't help but notice that the man looks tired, and he wonders if he has his own seemingly impossible tasks to complete. Then again, it's not his business and truthfully, he doesn't care.

This is time he could be using to repair the cabinet and the professor appears to be wasting it with this extended silence. If he's trying to gain some kind of advantage, Draco's not having it. "You wished to see me, sir."

Without looking up from his book, Professor Snape answers, "We need to discuss your plans and whether you will accept my help."

Draco notes the finality in his tone. His heart is pounding because he wants help, but he fears _him_ more. "Sir, I don't think that I can. _He_ wouldn't be pleased with me if he thought I was trying to shoulder my responsibility onto another." Draco moves to stand, wishing that he'd ignored this summons like all the rest. "Please don't ask again."

"Sit, Draco." Surprised, Draco makes eye contact, freezing inches from the chair's seat. Straightaway he feels the professor attempt to break through his mind shield as he asks, "Did you speak with your mother over the holiday break?"

Bitterness washes over him. His Head of House, of all people, shouldn't be treating him like this. Professor Snape has to be something more, has to be the Slytherin paragon that Draco's always believed him to be. He can't be like the rest. "Sir, if you want me to trust you then you really should stop doing that. And of course I spoke to Mother. Surely, you didn't think we sat around in silence."

Professor Snape's expression darkens and he whispers, "Watch your tongue, Draco. I can make your life most unpleasant."

"Then give me detention." Draco scoffs as he relaxes into the chair. "I don't care. When _he_ asks why I haven't been working on my project, I can offer your temper as an excuse. Detentions are nothing to me. I'm not a first year."

To Draco's surprise, the professor looks more resigned than angry at his disrespect. "Did your mother tell you about her visit with me last summer?"

This again. He didn't care about the Unbreakable Vow at Christmas and he doesn't know why he should care now. "I'm sorry, sir, but my mother visits a lot of people and rarely discusses her social calendar with me. Is there something more that I should know?"

Professor Snape looks too smug for Draco's liking, and softly answers, "Yes, I'm afraid so."

As Draco listens, the pieces fall into place. His mother never trusted that he could complete the task, always assumed that his inevitable death was meant as punishment for his father's failure. She sought out a promise from Professor Snape to protect him, that much he had known, but to ask that he finish it if need be—Why would she do that?

He'd long suspected some of these truths but to _know_ them cuts to the quick. Hoping his voice won't betray just how humiliated and desperate he feels, Draco asks, "Why are you telling me this now?"

Professor Snape leans forward and laces his fingers together. "The time for action is drawing near. I'd rather not see you dead, and I'd rather not die myself," he answers in his simple but firm way.

It's clear that he's not going to offer anything more without an answer, and Draco knows it's pointless to deny the obvious. "Fine. How do you propose to help me?"

He pulls his shoulders back the way he does before a lecture and makes his offer. "As you're aware, if I fail to protect you, I die, and I'd like some assurance that I can keep the promise I made to your mother."

Draco is slightly reassured by this; self-preservation he can understand. "Is that why you were so aggressive after Slughorn's party? Because you wanted a way to protect yourself and keep your promise to protect me?"

Professor Snape pinches the bridge of his nose, and Draco drops his head to hide his smirk. It must be painful for him explaining something so rudimentary, but Draco feels little sympathy for him. He chose to make the Vow, and he's personally asked nothing from him.

"Yes, Draco, I had hoped to make use of the Solstice, but you weren't receptive to my offers. I believe we should partake in a ritual that will allow me to connect to your magic. Beltane is but a week away and it will likely be my last chance to offer this type of additional protection to you."

Draco can feel his face flush pink. After all the lessons on control that he's had with Father, he's never learned to mask fury. A rubbish ritual! That's how he wants to help? All this build up and he offers no real assistance. Draco seethes at the insult but chokes down his rage long enough to ask, "Professor, how will such a thing aid me in serving our Lord?"

"Mind your tone, Draco." Professor Snape stands to collect a book high atop a bookcase before returning to his desk. "As I stated, the ritual could be used to alert me if you're in danger. The sole benefit to me would be to avoid an untimely death should you find your own. And, as you know, anything that keeps us both healthy benefits our Lord."

Draco takes a moment to think about what he knows of Beltane rituals. With a rush of panic, he shouts, "I don't want to have sex with you!"

It's Professor Snape's turn to colour, and he snarls, "Divorce yourself from your ego, Draco, or prepare to fail. We'll need the added strength of Walpurgis Night's elemental magic, but I assure you that if we perform the ritual correctly, a chaste kiss should suffice to seal the bond."

As much as he wants company in this burden, Draco isn't sure that he wants any kind of bond with Professor Snape. The man made his Vow to Mother; therefore, Draco owes him nothing for his sacrifice. What will he owe him for this ritual?

As if insulted by his hesitancy, Professor Snape sneers, "I've marked the necessary pages. Take the book and read the basics then decide. If you wish to have the additional protection that I'm offering, come back after lessons tomorrow."

Taking the book and the unspoken dismissal, Draco hurriedly leaves the office not wanting to be embarrassed or agree to anything without giving it proper thought.

It doesn't take long in the silent dorms to conclude that having someone on his side is too precious an opportunity to pass up. The next day, Draco accepts.

The problem, Draco realises almost immediately, is that Professor Snape seems to think he has control because he wrote the ritual. Draco isn't going to let anyone tell him what to do. Not anymore. Father was right: A Malfoy should always keep control.

The professor is annoyed but this is a ritual. It could be permanent. Head of House or not, Draco won't be led around in the dark again.

Professor Snape hands him two giant beeswax candles and lays a knife down on the worktable between them. "You didn't think this ritual would be all glamour, did you?" Before Draco can answer, he hands him a piece of parchment lined with intricate runes. "You'll carve these runes around the candles. Seven rows each. The power is in the preparation as I'm certain you know. Each etching will strengthen or weaken the magic, so be mindful to keep your thoughts appropriate as you carve."

Draco rankles at the obvious condescension. "I know ritual magic."

"Precisely how many rituals have you performed?"

He refuses to take the bait. "I know this is going to be an adapted ritual. You're acting as if this isn't cobbled together, but we don't even know if it will work. You expect me to blindly trust you, and I can't afford to do that!"

Professor Snape grabs his shoulders and spins him back against the table. As he hovers, his eyes glint with rage, and he whispers, "You might need to toss something together, boy, but I've had the time to sort it out. Do you question my competence? Do you profess to a greater knowledge of magical theory than my own?"

Draco hasn't been subjected to this side of the professor very often. It's usually reserved for Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, and he's more cowed than he wants to show. "No, sir, my apologies."

"You're wasting time puffing yourself up to me. Follow my directions or leave, Draco. It matters not to me."

"I never asked to be here. I'm only going to let you push me around so much!" Professor Snape has to care, because he's all but badgered him to do this. "And what would our Lord say if I told him you wouldn't help me?"

Professor Snape scowls, "I imagine he'd be more concerned that you've made no progress on your task. Perhaps I should mention you'd like an audience when I see him next?"

Draco's stomach flips. His last audience with the Dark Lord was… unpleasant. "I can reach him myself, professor. I'll just get to carving these. Seven each is going to take forever," he grumbles but picks up the candles and places them in his bag.

"If that's an accurate evaluation of your carving skills, then we're both wasting our time. I'll see you here on Beltane Eve. Follow the directions. That means bathe and wear ceremonial robes." He turns to walk back to his office but gently adds, "And Draco, don't be seen."

"Yes, sir, I'll be here."

"Morgana help me, as will I. Dismissed."

That night, Draco begins work on the candles, at last grateful that Father insisted he take Ancient Runes.

Days into the carving Draco admits that the more he focusses on the runes and understands the ritual the more he has to admire the changes the professor made. He concedes, if only to himself, that the man is dead clever.

The ritual is powerful without demanding permanence and requires the tiniest of blood sacrifices. Draco smiles as he realises that Healers need more for Fertility Bonds. He shouldn't complain about this, but he never thought his first Beltane ritual would be with a professor or that it would be for protection rather than lust.

Who'd have thought it would be him and Professor Snape together under the Beltane moon without their skivvies?

**

The tears flow freely down his cheeks and angry sobs echo against the walls. It's not something that he's proud of doing, but in this one forgotten place, he lets it all go: fear, hate, loss, desperation. She comforts him as best she can and pleads with him to talk about it, but he never does.

How does he tell her that it's too horrible to speak of? How does he put his stupidity into words?

It's eerie to look up into a mirror and see her right behind him close enough to hug but feel no warmth. It's only her that he trusts to see him this way; no one is going to ask her any questions, and she understands better than anyone what it means to be trapped by _him_.

As annoying and needy as she is, he has more in common with her than anyone. Neither of them have any say in their fate. He's about to confess all and risk losing her friendship, but he hears the door open.

That's when he sees Potter standing there soaking in his shame, and Draco wants to make him pay. He wants to make Potter ache the way that he aches and watch him writhe on the floor like the useless bug that he is. He starts to call out, " _Cruc…_ " but Potter is faster with his own dark curse and Draco falters in surprise.

Draco feels the impact and has only a moment to be shocked before his body goes numb. He looks down and sees nothing but blood. Saint Potty uses dark magic! Everywhere there's blood and he knows. Beyond doubt, he knows that it's the blood from his dreams. He's going to drown in his own blood.

The reason for his existence and the source of his usefulness is going to drain away. Dark spots cloud his vision as he crumples to the floor. Lying there he wonders, 'Am I to be a ghost? As much as I want to be free, I don't think I can bear to spend my eternity with Myrtle.'

Suddenly, Professor Snape is swearing and pushing Potter out of the way. Draco feels warm hands and remembers the soft touch from last week's ritual. His magic weaves into Draco's skin, tingling and pouring strength and healing. His chanting etches into Draco's soul, gathering what's been lost and placing it back inside his body.

He is making him complete again without restoring him. He's keeping the damage. There will be scars for Draco to trace every time he starts to forget that he owes Severus Snape each breath he's ever going to take.

**

Since that night when they ran, it's been the same. Night terrors chase him until he jolts awake then he remembers that everything has gone to hell and his once favourite professor has become his… his what? Protector? Ally? More?

It doesn't matter. Professor Snape, no Severus, Severus is keeping him safe and away from the Dark Lord. Nothing else matters.

With a shaking hand, he reaches out and grabs a potion from his bedside table. He tosses it back, dropping the phial to the floor not caring when it shatters. If jagged glass cuts his foot in the morning, at least he'll have proof that he's alive. Not that he expects to be much longer.

In these moments, Draco wonders if it was a good idea to bond himself to Severus. Things are different with trust. There's more pain, more confusion—more risk. He might be better off if Potter had killed him in that bathroom.

Draco falls back onto his messy clump of silver-grey bedding. It's stained with sweat circles and twists around him, cocooning him in the scent of his fear. He doesn't dare try to sleep again.

The knotted cotton beneath him pokes into his back just like a knight's sword, reminding him that soon he's likely to fall. Staring into darkness, he stoically accepts that he's been cast into the role of a pawn.

He's disposable in this fight. An old anger burns in the pit of his stomach because a pawn's existence isn't what his parents promised him. His blood was bred to be of the best quality among wizards, to keep their heritage alive and strong.

If he were an Abraxan, few could afford his stud price, but his pedigree and heritage hold little value to his master. Draco has accepted that he's nothing more than a shoddy replacement for his father, and if the whispers are true, the key to unlocking his mother's vault at Gringotts.

Tense fingers grip the sheets, twisting the soft cotton and pulling it down tight to the mattress. Resentment bubbles in his chest, it's all about Potter with his Lord. Every single thing any of them are directed to do always comes back to Potter.

In the quiet darkness, Draco lets himself hate Potter's arrogance. So much arrogance yet he's oblivious to the power he holds, and Draco is wearing the scars to prove it. The way Potter stumbles about full of himself and certain of his every choice; it's too much to stomach.

What would happen to Potter's brain if, just once, he thought before he acted? It's all because of Potter—Father sent away, the task and now this constant hiding. The Dark Lord is stealing his future and it's all because of Potter.

**

"I'm bored." Draco realises his mistake as soon as he utters the words, but he doesn't think he can stand another day in this house with its resounding silence. It's dark and seeps with decay as if the house itself is courting death, begging for a quick reunion with people long lost. Draco hates it here.

Severus tenses and the burdened look that he's worn the last few days returns. "Read, write or whatever is required to keep you entertained. I have potions to make," he answers, but his tone has lost its earlier warmth.

"May I help you?"

"No."

Draco winces. "But…"

Pushing away from the table, Severus interrupts, "There's parchment and quills. Study, write stories, attempt spell work… I don't care, Draco."

Severus looks exhausted, but when Draco's alone, images flash through his mind, the Headmaster falling and then Potter chasing after them. He resents being confined here and is horrified of spending more time alone with his thoughts. "And write stories? About what? How I fucked up? How—"

Severus' cold voice interrupts again. "Why not? Pick a list of students and write their story for next year, if you can't face your own. You can be Hogwarts very own Boccaccio."

Timidly, Draco asks, "Who's that?"

Something between a smirk and a wince graces his face. "See, already something for you to do. Look it up. And don't disturb me with your bleating again."

Draco attempts to make lunch but he's never so much as broken an egg before and it's a mess. As he's tossing it into the bin at Severus' insistence, he wonders if Severus could afford a house-elf. The scowl on Severus' face tells him not to ask.

While he watches Severus prepare ham sandwiches, he tries to make amends with small talk. "Did you see the paper? Potter's causing trouble. You should have taken him down when you had the chance. Dumbledore and Potter in one night. You could have challenged _him_."

"And _he_ could have killed me for my presumption." Severus stops spreading butter to glare at him as if driving home the point.

"I think you could have managed it. You could do it." Draco believes it too. If anyone could challenge the Dark Lord and win, it's going to be Severus.

Severus tosses a sandwich in front of him and asks, "What madness is your little mind cooking up?"

Draco shrugs and picks at the crust. It's dried out. He's never liked the crust left on his sandwiches. "Nothing. It's just that we're hiding here. You go to my house and he curses you. I can't go to my house because he'd likely _kill me_."

"How is that my problem?"

He stands ready to make his case. "I don't want to hide. I want to fight! What am I supposed to do here?" Draco starts to pace. He resembles a caged animal and he certainly feels like one.

Severus exhales and pushes his food away. "We've been through this. Petulance does not suit you, Draco."

Draco bends over and taunts him. "What does suit me?"

He knows he's playing with fire, but pushing Severus gives him a thrill. Severus reacts just as Draco knew he would. He moves with amazing speed to press him up against the cabinets, hot breath against his face. "How dare—Listen very carefully. That Vow, saving your worthless hide, does not make me your parent or your love interest. Grow up and learn to deal with the mess you've made."

Draco's heart is pounding as Severus' body pushes against him. He's sure that Severus is going for intimidation but his swollen cock pressing into Draco's stomach fuels his daring. "I can feel your _concern_ for me, _sir_."

Severus pulls away from him as if he's been cursed and rushes into his lab. Draco follows him, seeing as he's nowhere near finished. Rage wars with lust in Severus' eyes, but Draco sees the moment he manages to force all his feelings down inside. His eyes go flat and so does his tone when he growls, "Get out! Out!"

Emboldened, Draco circles him, not daring to touch. "I don't think that I will."

Severus grabs him by the wrist and spins him around grinding his cock into Draco's back. "I'm not on offer to cure your boredom, but don't think I'm some kind of bloody martyr. I do what I must and I take my pleasure where I can." He runs his free hand down Draco's neck and murmurs into his hair, "Don't think I won't take what you offer if you continue to flaunt yourself. Now get out, potion bases don't keep, even for hormonal indulgences."

Deflated, a little confused, and now a little horny, Draco edges away, wondering why he started this. Months ago he'd have found the idea of flirting with Professor Snape preposterous.

Just when he's about to slip out the door, Severus winces and grabs his forearm. "I must go to the Dark Lord's side. It would be unwise for you to follow. Remain here, and I will do all I can to secure your safety."

"I should go—"

"You should remain alive! Now is not the time, Draco. Do as I say in this." He rushes to the Floo, leaving Draco to wonder whether he'll ever see him again.

The waiting is horrible. Draco tries not to stare at the bare walls, tries not to wonder whether Severus will return. Minutes turn to hours, and as he sits listening to the ticking of the clock, the Floo flares green and a black-covered body tumbles out of the fire and onto the hearthrug.

Draco falls forward onto his knees turning the body over and hoping for a pulse. Severus looks grey, all ashy, and Draco can tell that he's been under several curses. He rushes to the lab and grabs the simplest healing potions.

He doesn't dare try to treat him with anything specific. Who knows if they forced potions down his throat as an extra punishment? He thinks back to the night that his mother tried to heal his father when that had happened. If they hadn't had a Healer who owed Father a favour, Mother's attempt at healing would have killed him.

Draco shifts Severus' limp body up between his legs so that he can feed him the potions as well as make certain that he swallows them without choking. This is the second time inside a week that he's had sole power over someone's life, and he's learned two things. He doesn't want to be a murderer or a Healer.

Potions administered, Draco starts casting cleaning charms to remove the blood and vomit from Severus' hair. He gently lays the man back down on the hearthrug, Transfigures it into a divan and closes the Floo. He doesn't want any of the company who would want to call tonight with Severus so weak.

Time moves slowly as Draco waits to see if he'll wake. He's certain there are a couple of broken ribs and he's rubbed in more bruise paste than a person should need in a year.

Severus' eyes flutter open and for a fleeting moment, he lets Draco see his gratitude. Draco brushes back his hair and asks, "What happened?"

"He was displeased that I finished it for you, but more pleased that it was done."

Draco frowns. "What does that mean?"

"It means that he offered me a reward for my service and I chose your life. In his eyes, you're now my property. Lucius was most displeased, which furthered the Dark Lord's amusement. I don't believe your mother has informed him of the Vow I made or the ritual."

"Fucking hell, I'm property! You can't mean—"

"Hush, boy. You're of no use to him now. Better property than dead. It will provide you some measure of protection, and it's more than most get when they've failed him."

"You're not going to make me…"

"Provide me with what you teasingly offered earlier?" Severus scoffs, "Don't be absurd, Draco. I did what was required, as I have all this last year. At least with these circumstances you can return with me to Hogwarts to finish your education."

Draco is horrified to find his relief is tinged with hurt because Severus doesn't want him in that way. "I don't ever want to see Hogwarts again."

"Of that we can agree, but we'll both be returning."

"Will Potter come back?"

Severus sneers and glares at the fire as if it's insulted him. "Only if he's more fool than I imagined."

"I don't want to go back," Draco whispers, knowing how childlike he sounds and no longer caring in front of this man who keeps saving him.

"Nor I." Draco notices that his voice has a hint of sadness too, and he guesses that he's probably miserable about being saddled with him.

"But now we do what's required," Draco adds flatly.

Severus gifts him a nearly approving look and answers, "Yes. Speaking of, you're to share rooms with me both here and possibly at Hogwarts."

Shocked, Draco asks, "Why?"

"It could be that I implied I wanted you for your youthful shell and that I'd already bonded you to me."

"Is that why you were punished?"

Severus winces as he chuckles. "Well, it certainly didn't gain me favour."

"He thinks that we are… that we have—"

"Settle yourself, boy. Such service will not be required; however, in the interest of our continued health, you shall also call me Severus in the company of our shared _friends_ and do nothing to make it seem otherwise."

Draco nods. If it keeps them safe, he's not above any sort of charade. "Are we really sharing rooms?"

"I'm afraid so. Wormtail comes around to spy periodically and always without warning. We must follow through with this ruse at all times."

"It's going to be okay?"

Severus exhales and picks at the frayed threads on the divan. "I dare say it will until it isn't. We have little control over the future, merely our efforts to survive it."

"And at school?"

"At school, I shall send you to the dorms whenever it's safe. You shall call me Headmaster like all the others."

Draco nods. It's all reasonable and a far better choice than being slowly tortured to death. "Thank you for saving me before, and for saving me again."

Severus tenses and gives him terse nod. "I see you finally understand life in _his_ service." Draco watches as he searches the fire. Just when Draco has given up on him saying anything more, he adds, "The Carrows will be joining us at Hogwarts."

After having seen those two in action, Draco shudders and hisses, "As teachers?" What is the Dark Lord thinking?

"Yes and as my Heads of Discipline. I suggest that you keep a low profile. My protection will only extend so far. Things are going to happen that I will be unable to change. I must, we must, take strength from the few things that we can change."

Draco doesn't want to think about that. "I found the Boccaccio in your library."

Severus says nothing and waits with a blank expression.

"I get the joke now. We're—I'm hiding away to escape death just like the people in the stories. I read some of it while I waited. It was nice to escape into their stories, but don't think I'm going to go searching through that book for life lessons."

That earns him a small smile. "Merlin forbid that you do such a thing." Severus looks up to the ceiling seemingly torn between saying something and nothing. "Draco, you have a keen mind. Do what you can to cope. If reading can give you distraction from reality, it's better than hiding behind a vice or refusing to cope at all. If you can find any escape from what we shall endure, take the respite. Take any respite."

"Will you do the same?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm yours now. I know you want me. You as much as said so earlier."

Wearily, Severus runs his hands over his face, wincing again when he hits a tender spot. "I said that I take what's on offer not that I'll take what I want. Your virtue remains safe with me."

Draco looks down at his hands still stained around the cuticles with Severus' blood. Sometimes Severus makes no sense. "I don't understand."

"I imagine that you don't. One day, perhaps, you'll be adult enough to know that a piece of young arse is a distraction rather than a prize. Distractions mean death in our world. I have tasks to complete before I can subject myself to the chaos of distraction."

"What do you have to do?"

"It involves Potter."

"Doesn't everything?" Draco complains, knowing the truth of it but resenting it anyway.

"For now, yes. If you're very lucky, you'll live to see a world where Potter is nothing more than an annoyance that can be overlooked like all the rest."

"What if he wins?"

The fire crackles and Draco jumps much to Severus' amusement. "What if he does?"

"Don't make fun. He'll doubtlessly be Minister of Magic and determined to see us both in Azkaban."

"How is that different from the alternative?"

"No Azkaban?" Draco jokes weakly.

"Ah, you prefer choosing your prison, very pro-republic of you."

"But—"

Severus carefully stands and rubs his back. "I'm going to bed and you need not join me. Surely even _he_ wouldn't expect me to have the strength to ravage you after the night that I've had."

"He probably would," Draco teases.

"You make a fair point. Laugh while you can, Draco. Soon enough you'll be warming my icy feet."

**

August 1st arrives sooner than Draco wants. Since he's officially the property of Headmaster Snape, he's required to return to Hogwarts a month early, not that he has anything to do with his time other than hide away.

There's little difference between Severus' home and the Slytherin dorms, because Draco's bored, mind-numbingly bored. He picks up his journal and scratches out a list.

He's not about to write pointless stories like Severus suggested, but since the incident in the bathroom and his dream coming true, he's certain that what he's always thought to be shrewd intuition could in fact be a latent gift for Seeing; although he'd never admit to considering the possibility to anyone other than Severus.

He makes what he hopes is a random list and runs his finger over each name, focussing on them and the upcoming year.

Weaselette: Despair and a lot of anger.  
Vincent: Blanketed fury and darkness. He should enjoy himself.  
Loony Lovegood: Strength and peace? He does that one again. Yeah, it's the same. Odd bird, that.  
Granger: Frustration and fear. Good.  
Pansy: Glee and outrage. No change, then.  
Severus: Stress, anger and… longing? Okaaay.  
Potter: Nothing. It's as if he's got a protective bubble around him. Another reason to hate Potter.

Then Draco thinks about it and shudders—does the nothingness mean that Potter is dead? No, the Dark Lord would have made that known. As much as he wants to knock Potter off his saintly pedestal, Draco doesn't want to live a half-life pretending to be Severus' pet and reward.

With Potter having spoiled his game, Draco decides to go to the library. He finds the room empty and pulls a couple of books on Charms from the shelves. He may as well study as be bored to tears.

He flips the page of _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes_ interested to find out if Lysandra Yaxley managed to get her revision of the first Muggle Repelling Charm to work and startles when fingers run through his hair.

He turns and sees Alecto Carrow staring down with lust in her eyes. "Hello there, young Malfoy. I can't believe Severus left his pet alone in this big, scary castle. I do believe that you should come back to my rooms so I can make certain that you're safe."

Draco's stomach turns. If he were going to go for a professor, it wouldn't be this one. "I'm sorry, I don't have permission. Severus wouldn't approve, and I should be getting back to the dormitory."

She giggles and puts her hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. "Don't be so hasty. If Severus were worried about you, he wouldn't have let you wander alone. He knows that I have an interest in sampling your services."

Draco panics. No one has sampled his services and he doesn't want it to be her that does it first. He hesitates and she takes that as acceptance, grabbing his wrist and pulling him up and towards the doorway.

He tries to tug free from her but she's stronger than she looks. When she pulls him out into the corridor, he hits his shoulder on the doorframe and yelps in pain. She giggles. "What pretty noises you must make. We're going to have so much fun."

When he sees they're approaching the professors' corridor, he starts fighting in earnest. Students aren't allowed down there, and Draco has never wanted to go there less. Desperate to slow her, he falls to his knees forcing her to drag him.

She stops and looks down at him glaring as she growls, "Don't make me Stun and Levitate you, pet. Your pretty body won't enjoy the cost."

"What's going on here?"

Draco has never been so relieved to hear Severus' voice. Alecto's expression shows she feels just the opposite but her voice is sugary sweet when she answers, "Oh Severus, lovely to see you. Just about to take a turn with young Malfoy. Found him out of bounds and all alone, so I'm sure you won't be minding it. Won't mark him up too much either."

Severus gives him an icy look and for a moment, Draco is afraid that he may hand him over to her, but then Severus drops his eyes to Draco's wrist that's bleeding from where she dug her nails in as he fought.

Severus clears his throat and murmurs, "As a matter of fact, I do mind. Unhand him. Now I have to waste precious time healing him so that he will be available to me at my leisure. Find your own plaything to vent your frustrations, Alecto. This one is mine."

"If he's so precious to you then maybe you should take better care of him," she spits back.

"Excellent advice, Alecto. I shall. Now if you'll excuse us, I believe your brother was looking for you in the Great Hall. Something about visiting your mum I believe."

Alecto frowns and reaches down to stroke Draco's hair. "Another time, young Malfoy, another time." She laughs when he cringes and pulls away. "I'll have to catch Amycus. I haven't had any of Mum's pudding in far too long."

When she turns the corner, Severus hisses, "Why were you out of the dorms?"

"I thought it would be safe! No one is supposed to be here but us."

"Us… and the staff."

Draco sighs, knowing that he's fucked up again. "Right. And the staff. I'm sorry I didn't think they'd attack me."

"You're no longer their equal, Draco. The Dark Lord has relegated you to a toy's status. You do not want to be alone with either of the Carrows because they play just as nicely as your aunt."

"I didn't understand that they would all feel that way! Merlin, will the students know?"

"Likely, but you'll be keeping to yourself anyway. Won't you?"

"I will. I'm just so confused. I don't know how to act and I'm not certain that I'm safe anywhere or with anyone but you!

"Calm yourself. That confused feeling you have is called humiliation and it's about time you felt it, after all the times you've forced it onto others. But hear this, our blood is tied. I'll be able to find you as long as I breathe. If you focus on your magic, you'll feel that you're not alone. It can bring reassurance when you're delving into despair."

He has a far off look in his eyes that piques Draco's curiosity. "You sound as if you speak from experience."

"I do. I shared a similar bond once and it was—a comfort."

"Were you in love?"

Severus sneers but quietly answers, "No, not in the way that you're implying, but he was very dear to me. I valued his protection."

And Draco knows, can see it with perfect clarity. The moodiness over summer was masked anguish. He knows who Professor Snape had himself bonded with. Draco's so unnerved that he bluntly asks, "Did we use his ritual?"

Severus gives him a terse shake of the head and Draco assumes that will be the end of it, but then he quietly adds, "No, we didn't require the same protections. His bond with me was unique. Return to the dorms and stay there. I'll have your meals delivered, and when it's safe, I'll move you to my quarters until the other students arrive."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for intervening."

"Severus. Only call me sir or Headmaster when I'm in that role and students are about. Verisimilitude will keep us alive, Draco."

"Yes, Severus."

**

Draco knows not to challenge Severus today. He's in rare form and has been since he first pulled him by the hand, twisting them through dungeon corridors that Draco has never seen but apparently lead out into the forest.

Severus' long strides are hard to match in the tangles of underbrush and hidden rocks, but he doesn't loosen his grip on Draco's hand. When they reach a small clearing filled with the first green shoots of spring, he stops and cautiously searches the tree line. They're further into forest than Draco has ever dared to venture and he's not ashamed to admit he's concerned.

"We're going to your home and you'll remain there until I collect you."

"But, I—"

"The Dark Lord requires my presence and you're not safe here alone. Go to your mother's side and stay there. She could use some time with you. And Draco, you've not seen your aunt recently. Don't provoke her."

Draco nods and swallows heavily. He feels uneasy about this, but he has no choice in the matter. With the Dark Lord still in residence, Draco hasn't set foot in the place since the night that he watched his father lose his wand and Professor Burbage... well, he tries not to think about that.

He shivers at the memory and almost misses Severus pulling a small hand mirror out of his robes. "Keep this Portkey with you at all times. At all times, Draco. If something happens to me or if you're in danger, use it and it will return you here. Twist the handle to activate it."

Once he has it safely stowed, Severus pulls him close and Apparates them to the gates of the manor. Draco feels a little ill but passes through the gates as if he owns the place, because one day he will. He has to believe he will.

Even if the Dark Lord is keeping Father from behaving as a Malfoy should, Draco doesn't have to do the same. His false bravery falters a bit when Severus tells him to go to his old rooms as soon as they pass through the doorway. He knows visiting home will be complicated but he's not expecting to hear screams the moment he arrives.

Draco rushes to his rooms and finds his mother waiting. Maybe he can use this time to get some answers about what's been going on. Severus seems determined to keep everything from him.

"Draco!" Mother calls out and rushes to him to pull him into a hug, running her fingers up and down his arms examining him like she would when he was small and had done something dangerously naughty. He's expecting her to inspect his teeth next but she pulls back with tears in her eyes. "I've missed you, Draco. Your father will be so pleased to see you as well."

"I've missed you too." Another scream can be heard in the distance and she flinches. He whispers, "Is it always like this?"

"No, although it happens far too often. _He_ is growing impatient and even the most loyal aren't safe." It's Draco's turn to flinch and as he's considering chasing after Severus, his mother adds, "Severus will be fine. He's one of the few in favour. Come, let's find Father."

It's Aunt Bella they find first and she's not delighted to see him. He's never seen her like this. Well, not with him. She's always loved him and helped him. The waves of contempt and hate that radiate from her make the situation feel surreal as if it's all a figment of his imagination.

"You dare to show your face here! You dare to come into our Lord's presence and hide behind your mother's skirt." She grabs him by the throat, her wand poking into his chest and he doesn't know what to do. Is he allowed to fight her? Is he allowed to reach for his wand or will that break the fragile accord he has with the Dark Lord?

He hears his mother pleading with her to stop, but Aunt Bella ignores her as she pushes him up against a portrait of Great Uncle Caspar who is whinging about chipped paint. Draco cringes at some of the things that she's whispering, all the things that he deserves and what she's going to do about it.

Draco panics, then Severus is there and with one look, Draco knows that he's no longer alone. That everything will be okay, because Severus makes something good out of the worst situations. His presence gives Draco the confidence he needs to push Aunt Bella away.

Mother rushes to him and dotes over his injuries. While she's running her fingers along his throat and healing scratches, he hears Severus say to Aunt Bella, "You'll lay neither wand nor finger on him. He's here as a reward for his good behaviour and as a gesture of good will to his mother. He's not a gift for _you_ , Bellatrix. By the way, our Lord wishes to speak with you before he and I depart."

Draco thinks that she's going to challenge Severus. That they might duel but Severus doesn't blink when she turns her wand on him. He stares her down and coolly adds, "You wouldn't want to keep _him_ waiting."

"You'll get yours, Snape," she grumbles. Severus and Mother begin murmuring something or another but Draco watches her walk away, not caring what they're saying. It ought to be amusing that she was moments away from torturing him and now she's primping, touching her hair and smoothing it down as she glances at her reflection in each of the windows, but it hurts because Draco remembers how it felt when she loved him. He never realised how much her approval meant.

Father's in his study when they find him. Draco stifles a gasp, but he can tell by the way Father tightens his lips that his shock is painted all over his face. Father looks wretched. He's too thin and his hair is tattered. Even the fine robes he's wearing do little to make him seem the man Draco remembers. He's a shell of that man, and Draco's heart aches to see him broken.

They're sitting down to lunch when the Snatchers arrive all smelly and full of boasts. Then everything seems to happen so fast that it becomes a blur. Potter's swollen face, his lies, Father pleading with him to tell, Granger screaming, that rogue house-elf that Father always swears about and then the knife flying through the air... he finds out that they had Looney Lovegood in their dungeon for months with a goblin… with a goblin!

Aunt Bella is so enraged that the prisoners have escaped that she destroys Grandmother Druella's wedding china. Mother doesn't as much as whimper, even though she's always loved it, but she does squeeze his hand a little tighter. Thankfully, Aunt Bella hasn't remembered that he lied about Potter being Potter or he knows she'll be fetching another knife for him no matter what threats Severus may have made.

Severus returns with the Dark Lord and notices him holding his mother's wand. Without needing to ask a single question, Severus assesses the situation, and abruptly announces they must return to Hogwarts immediately. Draco escapes the manor possessing more bad memories but safe in Severus' arms.

**

Vincent won't listen. They can't kill Potter and they need whatever he's searching for. Vincent only wants to fight and kill, so he casts the fire curse and everyone scatters in different directions.

The world is on fire. More than this room, more than just Vincent, the entire world is melting into itself and part of him wants to give up, to die here, even as Greg cries for help. Then Potter is in his face, pulling him onto a clunky old broom.

He holds on as tightly as he can, knowing that Severus needs him to help keep Potter safe from the other students. Once out of the Room of Hidden Things, he collapses beside Greg, choking on the smoke that he's inhaled after that idiot Potter circled back looking for jewellery.

The trio of do-gooders run off to join in the fight the moment they see a Death Eater in the distance. Draco grimaces and wonders if there's anyone who can keep Potter alive through this. He's not chasing after Potter; he's been told to lie low and watch for students faking allegiance to Potter. Though why Severus is adamant about keeping Potter alive is beyond him.

He pulls Greg up and they start searching the castle. As they walk farther down the darkened corridors, Draco realises that there aren't any students in the recesses of the castle. He's about to suggest they turn around and join the fight when out of nowhere, he buckles over like he's been hit in the stomach with a Bludger.

The bond is broken. He tries to scream but no sound escapes his throat and he just sort of hiccups. Greg is by his side, holding him steady and asking what's wrong, but Draco can't say it. He can't say Severus is dead, but he has to be or the bond wouldn't be broken.

Fury swells in his chest. So unfair. It's so incredibly unfair. Draco wants to destroy anything, everything. Severus said if he was brave enough to learn to think for himself that they'd be together when this was over. He's been good all year for Severus, but it's no use now. Nothing will ever be good again.

Somehow he makes it through the battle and finds his parents. They sit solemnly, waiting to be kicked out of the castle, but everyone is too busy patching up the injured or mourning losses to pay them much attention. Draco doesn't care about any of them anymore, and he accepts his mother's hand when she reaches out to lead him away. To where? Home or what's left of it?

His haze lasts for days. They all have trials scheduled before the Wizengamot, and Draco doesn't care much about what may happen to him. He did bad things, and there's no longer a reason for him to atone or apologise.

He hears his parents whispering about Mind Healers, but that's because they don't understand what he's lost. He thinks back to how demanding he was last summer when Severus had to be feeling this same empty turmoil, and he wants to sick up.

Another day brings another paper with Potter on the front page; really you'd think he'd fought the fight against the Dark Lord all alone. Every day there are more articles that spout details from the trials and useless titbits of Potter's latest press conference. He's been witness to Potter's _perfection_ for seven years. He doesn't need to know more about it.

But today's paper is different. On the front page of the _Prophet_ in big bold letters, he sees "SEVERUS SNAPE UNSUNG HERO!" For the first time since the battle, Draco decides to read one of the articles. He needs to know what they're saying about Severus. As he skims through the article, anger filters through his sadness.

He reads it again just to make sure his mind isn't playing tricks on him. How the fuck dare he? What does Potter know of Severus? The more he rereads it the more he wonders how much _he_ knew of Severus. Draco huffs and folds the paper over so that he can't see the surly photo staring up at him.

So what if Severus loved Potter's mum? What he and Severus shared was real—it was real and that can't be taken away. He supposes it could be true. After all, he's certain that he loved Pansy once, back before he realised that she was insufferable. Better that it was Potter's mum rather than his. That would have been an uncomfortable truth to learn.

This, this is just another reason for Potter to get his name in the press. Can't even let Severus have his moment of glory… it just has to be about his mum, thereby, about him. Of course Severus saved Potter because he loved his mum; it couldn't possibly be because Severus knew what life was like under that red-eyed bastard.

Draco tosses the paper into the rubbish bin. He needs a shower, and he needs to think. If Potter isn't going anywhere then neither is he, and if Potter can use Severus, then he'll use him as well. Severus wouldn't want him to spend his life hiding away in the manor.

He grins as he imagines Potter's face when he points out that surely the master spy wouldn't have pledged his life to help just any person. Severus tied himself to Draco, bonded with him and publicly sheltered him. He can see the scene playing out. Yes, it will work perfectly because if Potter wants to tie himself to Severus, then he can be tied to him as well.

Tales to tell and glasses to thump, Draco Malfoy is coming back with a bang.


End file.
